Ben and Adam on the Road
by Sibylle1
Summary: A WHB "Inger My Love" Even Ben wasn't always the perfect father.


**Ben and Adam on the Road**

The young dark haired man sat sat on the cold ground beside a fireplace he'd built roughly from a few stones. It was dark; only a dim violet glow on the eastern horizon, where the rising sun fought the night, announced an upcoming new day.

A new day. Ben Cartwright sighed. Another day in an endless row of days while he struggled to fulfil his dream – their dream. When he had won the heart of his captain's daughter, he'd thought his life would be a chain of happy days. But the chain had broken, and now he was struggling to hold the ends together by following their dream. As long as he and Adam were on the way, he couldn't lose his Elizabeth completely. He must go on, even if at the moment his fortune seemed to be at its lowest ebb.

He'd been told Galesburg was less than a week away but nine days on he still saw no sign of the town. He'd had to buy supplies at an expensive hostelry four days ago—even that was mostly eaten—and now he possessed less than a dollar. But he wouldn't give up! He would find a job in Galesburg, and earn the money he needed for the next stage! With an early start they might arrive that very day.

Ben stood up, stretched his muscles, turned his back on the rising sun, and, setting his jaw squarely, glared down the road before him.

"Adam, wake up!" he called loudly, as he started to build up the fire and scrape together some sort of meagre breakfast.

When a small voice answered, he reached for the pot with some leftover rabbit stew from the day before yesterday. Yesterday he'd stretched the stew with the last carrots. Squinting into the pot now, he decided that if he added some water he could make some kind of soup.

It was quiet in the wagon again. "Adam, come out now! We have to leave early."

"Yes, Pa." But no boy appeared.

Ben looked impatiently towards the wagon as he fed the fire with some bigger branches. They sent up a shower of sparks and Ben wet down the dry grass near the fire with the last of the canteen's water.

"I need some water but I can't leave the fire alone. Come on now!" Another minute went by. "Adam, must I count to five?"

The threat worked; a small tousled form crept from the wagon, mumbling, "Morning, Pa."

"Good morning, son. Go and wash your face in the creek, brush your teeth, and fetch some water." Ben handed his son the empty canteen. The boy shuffled in the direction of the creek. "Don´t dawdle!"

Ten minutes passed by. Ben set the pot beside the fire; he didn't want to burn the remaining spoonfuls of stew. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted "Adam! I need the water. Come back!"

Surely the boy was playing at the creek. Of course Adam was only five but there was a time for everything. He could play in the wagon later but now they had to hurry, if they were to reach Galesburg that day. They couldn't drive in the heat of the noon, so making good use of the early morning hours was essential.

Just as Ben was on the verge of going to look for his son the boy finally appeared, carelessly dropping the canteen next to his father.

"Adam, be careful! It's very impolite to cast things at somebody's feet. Why didn't you come back?"

"But I came!"

"Don't talk back. You know what I mean. Go and comb your hair while I finish our breakfast. And hurry!" Ben gave his son a swat to spur him and the little boy ran to the wagon.

Ben filled a bowl for Adam, making sure to include all the meat he could find, and handed it to the boy. Deciding to put some more water in his own portion, he swirled the canteen and upended it over the pot. A brown slurry of water and sand landed on top of the stew.

"Da—arn, it, Adam, look. Now the food is ruined. You should know better than to scoop sand instead of clear water!"

"Sorry, Pa."

"It's too late to be sorry. You must learn to be more responsible!" Ben spat angrily, before he emptied the pot's contents into the fire. Grabbing several canteens and a bucket, he headed for the creek himself. When he came back, he ignored the boy who sat motionless, eyes cast down, and untied the small brown mare to take her down and water her at the creek. Once again, when he came back, the boy was still in the same place, spoon in hand.

"Why don't you eat?" Ben asked impatiently.

"It's too hot."

"Nonsense, it can't be. Eat now, we want to leave." Why was the boy being so slow? Ben grumbled to himself. He packed away all their camp items, extinguished the fire, hitched the horse up. Finally he looked back at Adam. The boy still didn't seem to have moved.

"Now eat! Or I will feed you like a baby. One … two … three…."

"It hurts, Pa."

"That small swat? It can't. Don't make such a fuss. Four …"

"The soup hurts."

"Nonsense. Five." Ben grabbed for the spoon in the boy's hand.

He winced when he brushed Adam's skin. He couldn't remember it ever seeming so hot. Alarmed, Ben felt at Adam's forehead, then his stomach. The boy was burning up. "You're sick, Adam. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask." The boy looked earnestly up to his father.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry." Ben held the small boy close to him. "Does your throat hurt?"

The boy only nodded and snuggled deeper in his father's arms.

"I'll put you to bed, son. You must be exhausted—you need to rest." Ben grimaced as he spoke; it wasn't just rest Adam needed, but also something warm and soothing inside him; something like the hot milk with honey his own mother had always given him when he was sick.

Adam's nod was barely visible. He was already back asleep.

The horse drew the wagon along the road again. As Ben sat on the coachman's seat, eating the last apple from the supply box, he listened for noises from the back of the wagon. He didn't want to miss his son waking up or needing fresh cold compresses. His son, the strongest link between his future and the past. "Elizabeth, forgive me. I was impatient and unfair to our son. I should have known there's something wrong with him. A mother would have seen he was sick! Please look down for us. I want to keep my promise and fulfil our dream, but please help me to do it the right way! Please guide me, for our son's sake!"

When two hours later he came to a sign, "Galesburg 5 miles," Ben smiled. They would arrive that afternoon and he suddenly felt sure he was on the right path.


End file.
